


Trust

by retrograde_marmalade



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 4
Genre: All I care about is Frey/Leon, F/M, I just love Leon so much, Love Confessions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrograde_marmalade/pseuds/retrograde_marmalade
Summary: Leon's second Firefly Festival while living in Selphia.
Relationships: Frey/Leon (Rune Factory)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Trust

It was a long day of preparation, but Leon was expecting it this time around. Last year, he had never experienced the Firefly Festival before and felt overwhelmed by the bustling activity that swarmed the town in the hours before dusk. Everywhere, the townspeople were stringing paper lanterns and moving around benches to make room for the tourists that soon came through the port and town gate. Outside of the entrance of town, booths were being constructed and decorated in orange, red, and yellow, matching the lanterns that now adorned every block of the town. 

Leon made his way from his residence at the inn towards the shopping district, walking past the port. Everywhere was a murmur of activity. People were flooding in and out of the restaurant, carrying ingredients to and fro. It appeared that Porcoline was enthusiastically fulfilling his role as the town chef that day, setting up various booths of his own while also preparing to serve those who were staying overnight for the festival. It appeared that he had, thankfully, hired help for the day, allowing him and Dylas to do the actual cooking while the support staff prepared ingredients or made their way to the festival grounds. Stepping into the shopping district, he was vendors and shop owners alike flowers, merchandise, small trinkets, and prizes from their doorsteps to their booths. Merchants, vendors, and visitors alike were bumping into each other and mumbling apologies, the direction of the crowd haphazard and inconsistent. The atmosphere, though, was pleasant, and no hard feelings were had.

As Leon stepped aside to make room for a vendor carrying a large box full of what appeared to be jewelry from the port to the main area of festivities, being set up a little ways away from the town, he noticed Blossom struggling to carry a crate of her own, filled with an assortment of charms, flowers, and small gifts in the direction of the booths. He took a few long steps towards her and took the crate easily into his arms before she could give him a word of protest. He put a hand on her back and guided her through the crowd.

“You kids,” she grumbled good naturedly, allowing Leon to slowly direct the pair against the flow of tourists killing time in the shopping district of the town. “I’m perfectly capable of preparing on my own.”

“I never doubted you,” Leon replied easily, looking down at her with a grin. “Has respecting one’s elders gone out of style while I’ve been asleep?”

“Might be so,” Blossom chuckled. “Though technically you’re older than I am.”

Leon started in surprise, earning another laugh from the old woman. He wasn’t used to others joking with him about his unintentional time travel, and was honestly a little uncomfortable with her honest statement. True, he was much older than even the castle and cobblestone path they walked on, and older than the aging woman who walked beside him. Old enough for even his language and anyone with any memory of him to disappear.

“Which booth is yours?” Leon asked as they walked through the town gates into the event space, still noisy and busy but less congested than the streets of the town. Blossom looked around for a moment before smiling and pointing with her cane to a booth to the far right of the space. There, Leon saw the town’s princess set a different box down and begin pulling out ribbons and other decorations. “I see I wasn’t the only good samaritin to offer assistance this morning.”

“You’d be hard pressed to offer anyone a helping hand before Frey,” Blossom replied, and Leon laughed.

“This is true. I’ve never met such a busy body,” Leon said, and Frey turned as they approached. “It’s rather exhausting.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’m the only one you ever call that,” Frey answered with a frown, which prompted another laugh from Blossom. “Fine, you can decorate this booth, then.”

“That sounds like a duty for the town’s princess,” Leon said as he set the crate he was carrying down on top of the booth. Blossom clicked her tongue and began unpacking the crate.

Frey immediately began assisting the shopkeeper, gently lifting a basket full of apples out of the crate and setting it down, arranging them in a more pleasant manner. Leon watched as she took one of the bright red ribbons from her box of decorations and tied it neatly to the basket. No matter how large or small, Frey always took the initiative to assist the people of Selphia with anything they might be doing. When Frey noticed Leon watching her, she lifted garland of flowers from among the other decorations gave him one end to hold onto as she began fastening the other end to the booth. “Or for the town’s priest.”

“No, that sounds like a job for a certain lazy dwarf,” Blossom said just as Doug came wandering from the other side of the festival, watching the two of them wrap the flowered garland around the booth. He looked between all three of them before pointing to himself inquisitively. “Yes, you.”

“Aw, man…” Doug made a face. “Frey is way better at this stuff than I am.”

“Well you’ll just have to do. I’m sure Frey has other things she needs to finish before the festival tonight.” Blossom smacked Doug’s hand that was reaching towards a basket of apples that she had on display. “Thank you both very much for your help.”

Frey and Leon bowed respectively before walking away from the booth, Leon smirking at a grimacing Doug, subject to Blossom’s scoldings for the rest of the day.

As the two of them made their way back toward the town gate, Frey stopped every so often to ask someone a question or offer to assist in their work. Leon was at first surprised that she seemed to know so many of the out-of-town guests by name, and they hers, but realized that he shouldn't have been. After all, Frey could be seen several times per day stopping to help anyone who seemed lost, curious, or just bored. When they finally reached the entrance of the town, Vishnal called to Frey from the castle entrance, waving her over.

"It seems your duties await," Leon said, nodding toward the castle. Frey followed his gaze, frowning slightly. Odd. Leon waved a hand in farewell, turning and beginning to walk away. "Well, then, I'll be seeing you."

“Ah! Actually,” Frey quickly called out to him. Leon stopped and have her a questioning look, raising an eyebrow when she shuffled her feet. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight? Who knows?” Leon waved a hand airily. “It isn’t as though there’s a festival going on or anything like that.”

“You were actually going to go on your own?” Frey asked, surprised. “I thought I’d have to drag you.”

Leon frowned, but his overall expression was teasing. “What, you think I’m that much a spoilsport?”

“That’s what you did last year,” Frey rolled her eyes. She smiled and said, “So then I’ll see you tonight.”

“I suppose so.” Frey bounced lightly on her feet before bounding away toward the castle, probably to ask the staff if there was anything she could help with.

Leon watched her go, leaning against the town gate. The summer heat prodded at his shoulders and he moved a bit so that he was standing in the shade. He wondered why Frey took the time to ask him specifically if he would be attending the Firefly Festival. Usually, she would’ve just taken a moment out of the festivities to drag him into the celebration and force him to socialize. 

What was even more strange was how nervous she seemed when she had asked him. By now, Leon had learned to read Frey’s emotions from every small movement she made, every small color in her voice. Nervousness was not something that Frey often expressed, and so he wondered what it was that made her so uneasy.

As he gazed at the castle, Frey stepped through the large doorway with her arms full of lanterns, a few butlers following closely behind her similarly burdened. Vishnal seemed to be orchestrating as the head butler of the day, leading them to the far side of the town square and gesturing where the lanterns should be displayed. Leon watched as Frey stood on her toes to try and tie the lantern up on a tree branch, struggling to reach. Leon smiled despite himself and played with the idea of going over to help her, imagining the indignant expression and embarrassed blush that would paint her face when he teased her for her height. ‘How lucky I was here to help,’ he would say, as though he weren’t waiting around just in case such a situation would arise. Which he wasn’t, of course.

The scene in his head dissipated when Vishnal stepped over to help Frey, taking the string from her hands and tying it to the branch, helping her straighten the lantern and place a candle inside. Leon couldn’t hear them from this distance, but Frey smiled cheerfully and said something to Vishnal, who blushed a deep red and laughed in response. This made Leon frown and turn away, defaulting to watching the festival preparations going on outside of the town gate instead.

The fact that he felt jealous at all was ridiculous, Leon knew. Frey was the town’s princess and hero, adored by everyone at home and far away. It was only natural that a few of the men living in town would come to admire her, the most obvious of this group being Vishnal. Frey was always gracious and kind to everyone, accepting their gifts and compliments. Leon almost wished that she would turn him down, keep her distance and put an end to his constant fawning. Which, of course, was not at all fair and made Leon feel a little guilty at the thought.

Sometimes Leon got a little lost in a delusion of special closeness to Frey. They surely spent more time together than she did with anyone else in town; they often spent long days out of town, fishing or exploring or completing requests for materials for different residents. They came to understand each other thoroughly with a language that extended even to battle, knowing when the other needed help and when to step back. Leon, who hated to sleep after being subjected to a centuries-long slumber, and Frey, who was often kept awake at night by the weight of all she had done, had to do, and could not remember doing, sometimes sat at the lake together until the sun peeked over the horizon. 

Frey knew the things Leon loved and the things that he hated, and Leon knew her similarly. That was also why he knew that if he were to march over to her, sweep her up in his arms and demand she be his, she would agree in a heartbeat. The thought stirred a triumphant, desperate, and miserable feeling deep in Leon’s chest.

How long would they pretend? They danced around each other constantly, lingering touches and glances clearly communicating to each other how they felt. It was Leon’s fault, and he knew it. Months ago, on a cold winter night sitting on the floor of a then very empty castle, Leon confessed his burden; that he could never be with anyone else. Frey’s eyes then were something that he would never forget- disappointment and concern molded together in such a unique color that Leon had no words to describe. That she could feel such deep pain for both herself and another in the same moment made it even harder for Leon to stay away.

Of course he didn’t tell her why, that he couldn’t be with her because he couldn’t marry her, because he felt chained to his past with a broken promise to a long-dead companion, and because that guilt made him feel as though he needed to atone for his sins with a future of solitary. How would that make her feel? ‘Sorry, I can’t marry you because I promised to marry another woman hundreds of years ago.’

Leon kicked at a pebble on the ground, sighing deeply. He wasn’t being fair to Frey by being this way. He should be honest and keep his distance to make things easier for the both of them. Truth be told, if he had realized how deeply he was falling into her a year ago he would have called it quits then. Never having been in love before, he didn’t know the warning signs, nor how impossible to would be to pull back after the fact.   
To distract himself, Leon wandered the town. It wasn’t like him to get so caught up in his thoughts like this. Usually he kept himself busy with work, fishing, or walking outside of town, but the day’s events made his usual escapes inaccessible. He found himself waiting at the restaurant, watching the bustle of activity as food and drink were prepared to satisfy the hundreds of festival attendees that would be strolling just beyond the town all night.   
Porcoline, the man of the hour, found Leon resting in one of the chairs, and made a noise of surprise. “Can I get you anything, Leon?”

“Oh no, I’m just observing,” Leon assured the chef, raising an eyebrow at the jars that Porcoline was holding in his hands. “What are those for?”

“The fireflies!” The man exclaimed. “I’d already gathered thousands for tonight, but I’m worried that it’s not enough!”

“… you go and gather the fireflies?” Leon repeated.

“Of course! From Keeno Lake! That’s where they sleep, you see.” 

Before Leon could ask anymore questions, the man bustled out the door, mumbling about finding more jars. Last year, Leon assumed, watching from the window from his bedroom at the inn, that the fireflies were the result of some sort of spell. But now he realized, rather than magic, it was effort and time that made the festival so spectacular and bright. That could be said for the town overall, he supposed.

Eventually, midday turned to afternoon and afternoon to evening. As the sun began to sink lower and hide behind the castle, the bustling activity merged to the town square, where the lanterns were lit one by one. In every street, the lanterns led the tourists to the square which was dimly lit and suggested greater fun to be had just outside of the gate.

Each booth was a spectacle of its own. The booth for Carnation’s was adorned with emery and crystal flowers of each color, swarmed with young girls reaching to buy flower crowns and pendants. Blossom’s booth, with its flower garland and large sign that spelled “Blossom’s” with flowing letters, was surrounded by crates and barrels of all kinds of merchandise, from vegetables to fruit to charms to gifts to accessories; there were many merchants gathered around chatting and comparing products, and Blossom was deep in conversation with an older man that she seemed quite familiar with, smiling. Bado’s booth was almost bare, two baskets of accessories on top and with three barrels of weapons to the side. He looked rather bored, his chin resting on his hand and giving a sideways glance to Forte, who was standing on the other side of the booth.

Leon grinned as he approached and knight. “I felt very comfortable wandering about with the knowledge that you were on patrol. Now that I see you’re just standing around, I’m feeling quite antsy.”

“I will return to patrol soon,” Forte snapped, hand on the hilt of her sword. 

“Just making sure Bado doesn’t wander off?” Leon suggested, and Bado's sigh confirmed Leon's suspicions as Forte shot Bado an irritated and exhausted look.

“No one wants to buy this stuff anyway,” He grumbled, earning an exasperated look from Forte.

“If you just _tried_ to sell them…”

Leon walked away, their conversation trailing off and blending in with the noisy crowd. There were dozens of other booths from vendors outside of town, providing games, food, drinks, and toys to the festival-goers. It was at a booth selling clothes that he found Frey and, to his surprise, Doug chatting and observing the different items for sale.

“… I don’t know. You can’t farm in that, right?” Doug was saying, poking at the dress that Frey had in her hands. She glanced down at the fabric.

“Well, no. But it’d be nice to have clothes that aren’t for work.”

“All you do is work,” Doug snorted. “You should get something that's, like, brown.”

“Brown.” Frey repeated.

“Yeah, so the dirt blends right in.”

“Leon!” Frey greeted brightly, smiling as he approached. She shyly put the dress back down on the shelf. “You came after all.”

“As promised,” Leon said, glancing at the dress. “That’s quite pretty.”

“Knowing you, that means you hate it,” Frey sighed, stepping back and looking around at the other clothes for sale. “I guess that settles it.”

Leon frowned- maybe he really did tease her too much. “No, I mean it. It’s a lovely color.”

“Frey never wears pink,” Doug protested, crossing his arms. Frey pursed her lips. “She’s not girly like that.”

“She looks like a girl to me,” Leon tilted his head in mock confusion. “Oh, my. You can’t tell the difference? Maybe that’s why you and Dylas are so close-“

“That’s not what I meant!”

Frey laughed and watched as Doug stomped away, grumbling about Leon and Dylas all the while. She looked up at Leon and smiled. “Having fun?”

“Now I am,” he replied, perhaps too honestly. “Not going to buy it after all?”

“Maybe later. I don’t want to have to carry it around.”

The two of them began walking from booth to booth, looking at everything being offered and occasionally chatting with the vendors and tourists around them. Frey was very friendly and helped to direct those lost towards the booths and products they were looking for, sometimes going out of her way to lead them there. Leon always followed, making a show of being exhausted by being dragged around the entire festival but enjoying himself. He never would have imagined himself acting as tour guide and chauffer, and yet Frey made him surprise himself with how far he was willing to go to help others.

Eventually, they found themselves back at the town gate where the festival was at its gentlest. The space immediately outside of the town was wide open and darker compared to the festival about a hundred feet away. In the open field, several children were running around and chasing the fireflies that made their debut, shrieking with glee when they caught one in their hands and laughing as the bugs flew away. 

At the entrance of the town where they were standing, it was finally quiet enough for Leon to hear the wind brush against the leaves and grass. The rustling mixed with the distant laughter of the children, tourists, and their friends put Leon at ease, softening the edge that had been digging into him all day. Of course, a large reason for this was that Frey was now beside him.

“Leon.”

Leon looked over at her and she was staring straight ahead, watching the children run and play. Her hands were clasped behind her back, which Leon knew she only did when she was nervous or thinking very hard about something. She looked relaxed, though, and she didn’t look at him when she said, “I love you.”

It was unreasonable, the way that Leon’s chest constricted and how all words left his mind when he heard those words. The amount of times he imagined saying them to Frey, or imagined her saying them to him, was embarrassing. And she looked almost exactly the way that he’d imagined she would when she finally did say them; cheeks slightly pink, eyes downcast, face hidden slightly by her long hair. However, in his mind, it was a happy and culminative moment, and Frey currently looked calm and resigned, though her posture betrayed her anxiety.

Leon couldn’t think of anything to say, and Frey spoke again.

“I know. I know what you’ve always said, about being with someone… and that’s okay. I just… needed to say it.” She smiled slightly and looked down at her feet. “And I know you already knew. So I just needed to get it off my chest before I try to get over you.”

“… Give up on me,” Leon finally agreed, and Frey laughed quietly in response.

“I knew you’d say that,” she murmured.

At length she turned and looked at him, but Leon couldn’t place the emotion that was on her face. He’d seen almost every expression that he thought she was capable of making; angry, sad, frustrated, tired, hurt… betrayed… but he wasn’t used to this even, calculated smile that she gave him. And he realized that Frey, honest and strong, had never lied to him before this moment. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh. Well… the festival?” Leon inquired, his voice cracking a bit. He gestured towards the lights and the crowd, and Frey followed his gaze for a moment before she shrugged with a falsely casual air.

“I’ve had a pretty busy day, actually. I think I’ll just go check on the castle and then go to bed,” Frey answered. With another smile she turned and walked through the gate into the town square.

Leon stared at her back for a moment. He opened his mouth but found that he couldn’t speak, and he was suddenly terrified. He’d always told himself that, were this moment to come, they could easily remain friends. But he was suddenly acutely aware of the distance between them and knew that the small moments that he’d come to treasure, the touches and glances and voiceless words, were slipping away with each step that Frey took. He found himself following her into the town square and reached for her hand, whirling her around to face him.

Frey gave him a startled look but didn’t pull away, and Leon still struggled to find the right words. He looked down at their joined hands, hers so much softer and smaller, and tried to think of what to say.

“I…” 

But he faltered, and Frey squeezed his hand gently.

“I know.”

“How? How do you know?” Leon finally snapped in response, letting go of her hand as quickly as he had grabbed it. But Frey didn’t look surprised by his harsh tone, either. 

“Because I know you love me, too,” she replied. When Leon gave her no other response than a wide-eyed look, she continued. “So I know this is also difficult for you. I’m not going to cry and stomp my feet because I can’t get what I want.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Leon was not used to being at a loss for words and wasn’t sure how to shake the feeling. Frey crossed her arms, hugging herself as if cold. Without looking at him, she continued. “What I don’t know is why you won’t be with anyone. But if you don’t want to tell me, or tell anyone, then I can’t make you.”

And when she looked up at him, head slightly tilted and with that color in her eyes that left Leon breathless all those nights ago that he hadn’t seen before or since, even when their friends were hurt or when the world was falling apart around them. “And I don’t know why you can’t trust me to carry that weight with you.” 

Trust. Was that really all it was? When he first told Frey, slightly drunk and rattled after a few too-close calls in one of their journeys out of town, that he could never be with anyone else, she gave him that breathless look that rivaled only the look in her eyes when she decided to save the world. And when she had asked him why, he couldn’t tell her.

But now, safe and warm (thanks to them, thanks to _Frey_ ), he felt the urge to trust rising up in his chest once again. “I can’t be with you because I can never get married.”

Frey blinked in surprise at his sudden confession. “Why? Because you’re a priest?”

“No, for a different reason,” he replied. “It was a personal choice. Regardless, I can’t be with you because I can’t marry you. We could never really be together.”

Frey looked away for a moment, watching a few fireflies dance past them in the air. She was wearing a contemplative expression again. Leon was used to her being impulsive and brave, giving quick quips and working through every conversation with ease. But now, she was heavily considering every word that Leon said to her and that she said in response. “… well, I’m a little young to get married, anyway.”

“… What?”

“We don’t need to get married,” she reiterated, turning to look at him again. “Why are you even bringing that up, anyway? All I did was ask you to be with me. I know you’re a few hundred years past your prime, but- “

“Frey, that’s- “

“I know,” she laughed, shifting her weight as nervousness overtook her again. “But I meant it. We don’t need to get married.”

Leon was confused; had times changed more than he thought they had? To be with someone and never be able to marry, to never be able to live together, have children, receive blessings from the gods and others… what would be the point of that? “Why?”

“To be together.” Frey said it so simply, as though it were obvious. She smiled again at Leon’s surprised expression. “What? Is it really that weird?”

“Are you… okay with that?” He asked after a brief pause. 

“… I can’t tell you how I’ll feel that far in the future,” Frey responded. And for the first time that night, she looked up and met his eyes with her usual fiery confidence. “But I can tell you how I feel right now. And I know that I’ll regret it if I give up the chance to be with you now because I might get hurt years down the road.”

In that moment, dark and faintly lit by the dimmed lanterns that illuminated the festival, quiet except for the distant sounds of everyone gathered beyond the town square, Leon couldn’t believe that he hadn’t trusted Frey months- no, a year ago. All of the hesitation, the holding back, the quiet nights spent staring into space with the hugely empty space beside him was pointless. Frey was right here, arms and heart wide open, waiting for him. 

Again, Leon found himself at a loss for what to say. Always quick with a comeback or response, tonight he found himself grasping for words that make it past the growing warmth in his chest and the lump in his throat. Unsuccessful, he reached for Frey’s hand again and pulled her against his chest, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders, his fingers curling into her hair as he sighed deeply into their embrace. Frey squeaked quietly in surprise, stunned by the sudden movement.

“… Okay. Help me carry it,” Leon breathed into her hair. “That weight.” 

Frey relaxed into his arms and leaned against him, reaching around his back and hugging him in response. “Of course.”

“It’s pretty heavy,” Leon warned. Though his tone was joking, he meant it.

“I’m pretty strong.”

“Confident, are we?”

Frey gave a little laugh and gripped his shirt in her hands. “This isn’t how I imagined this would go.”

“Disappointed?” Leon murmured, and he felt her shake her head against his chest. He tightened his hold on her and signed, content. “Good.”

Frey was the strongest person in the world. Leon knew that. And she was willing to open herself up and allow herself to be vulnerable here, in this moment, with him. Frey, always practical and careful, held her feelings out in her hands and trusted Leon to catch whatever slipped through her fingers. 

And Leon felt that he was ready to trust her, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Boy do I love these babies. The ship that just wont leave me alone.
> 
> I haven't written a fic in a REALLY long time, so please be very honest with your comments! I love feedback and want to get better.


End file.
